


To Bare It All

by Kodalinx



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, TBIA, To Bare It All, Vampire AU, vamp fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kodalinx/pseuds/Kodalinx
Summary: Jean didn't know what to do. He was desperate, but he didn't want to - couldn't - be like the others. Racing down the street, he couldn't help but feel he wasn't going to make it in time. The hospital wasn't too far away now...





	

Jean didn't know what to do. He was desperate, but he didn't want to - _couldn't_ \- be like the others. Racing down the street, he couldn't help but feel he wasn't going to make it in time. The hospital wasn't too far away now.

Darting left, Jean noticed a gang of teenagers some way ahead exiting a club, laughing and stumbling over each other. He could smell the alcohol from down the street. But there was something far stronger that he could smell, which he desperately tried to ignore.

He heard their cheers and whoops, and even a particularly idiotic one call out to him. "Hey there!"

It was a tall boy, with brown hair and lively, yet now half lidded emerald eyes. The boy grabbed Jean's arm as he ran past, dragging him back and slinging an arm around him. "You look like you need to have some fun, man. Come with us! He's okay, right guys?"

Jean inhaled and the boy's scent shot up his. Jean reeled back, but didn't escape the boy's grip. _Urgh, that smell_. Jean had to breathe through his mouth. The alcohol was obviously heavily influencing the boy’s senses. But...were they all like _him_? Jean’s eyes roamed the rest of the group.

There was a boy with a buzz cut, smaller than him, but he didn't look younger, hunched over, throwing up into the hedges. A girl roughly the same size, with chocolate coloured hair and eyes stood rubbing his back and giggling to herself. He obviously couldn't handle his drink. Two boys, both extremely tall, had their arms around a small blonde girl standing between them. Whilst they were clearly far gone, the smaller girl appeared nearly sober aside from her large, dilated pupils, which gave her away. It also seemed that she was the only thing holding them both up as they slouched and leaned on her and Jean feared she'd be crushed. Then, there were two girls stood together. A small blonde with a heavy blush across her cheeks (most likely from the alcohol) and a taller girl with brown hair and freckles. They stood, laughing to each other and, leaning close together, as if sharing a very private joke.

No. Mostly human.

Minus one.

Jean turned his head slightly, glancing behind him. A girl stood near enough behind the boy holding onto Jean, who introduced himself as Eren. Eren went on to introduce the rest of the group, but Jean wasn't really listening. He was too focused on the girl glaring at him. She had long dark hair and dark eyes. She was pretty. And that made it so much worse.

Jean matched her scent to Eren's and knew they were the same. That explained why she looked at him the way she did. It was a warning: ** _Don't try anything._** She was clearly far more sober than Eren, who was just about coming to the end of his slurred list of names. "And then there's Mikasa..." His hand waved lazily in her direction. "And...um..." He trailed off. Then, swung his head around, scanning the area. Jean stiffened. He was already in a bad state before a run in with these drunken fools. Now, he was even worse off. He was still.... craving, and on top of that he was outnumbered by _their_ type. Time seemed to be making everything worse and it wasn't stopping yet.

Jean was snapped from his thoughts by Eren's drunken shout echoing in his ear. "Oi, guys! Where's Marco?"

No one replied. Few even took notice. Then, the club doors swung open once more as two more people exited the building. One, a tall freckled boy with brown hair and eyes, who smiled at the group and even took a step in their direction before a second figure dragged him back. A tall man, roughly the same size as the boy, whispered into his ear and slowly led him away from the crowd. Jean scanned the man suspiciously. He had dark hair and eyes, his irises black in the darkness. However, Jean's enhanced eyesight could see that his pupil's weren't dilated like the rest of the teenagers surrounding him, and he seemed much older.

"Woo! Marco's getting laid tonight! Have fun, Marco! Be safe!" The idiot beside Jean jeered.

The man turned and cast a quick, shifty glance their way, almost as if to check they weren't following him. That look told Jean everything he needed to know. That quick flash of fangs, two sharp points just escaping his lips. _No_ , Jean thought. _He couldn't be...There was no way he'd be chasing after some kid like that_. Jean’s gaze flicked to Mikasa, who stood, gawping as the boy, Marco, was lured off and Eren simply continued to cheer. Then, she caught Jean's eyes and the message was clear.

**_Fix it._ **

Jean's eyes darted away and he made to follow the pair; the man was now quickly shooing Marco into a nearby alleyway, away from prying eyes. Eren gripped Jean's arm again as he tried to step away.

"Where're ya going, buddy?" Eren slurred. How could he possibly sound more drunk now than before when he’d stopped drinking?

Jean shoved the boy away from him, a little too hard. Eren stumbled, and would have fallen if Mikasa hadn't leapt forward to catch him. She growled, baring her teeth at Jean. A few other members of the group turned to stare, but brushed the girl's actions off as a result of the alcohol. Jean span around and raced off, knowing that he was running out of time to find out what was happening. He felt the eyes on him, practically burning holes into his back as he ran.

Coming to the entrance of the alleyway, he saw two figures stood at the very end, barely able to make them out. He paced closer slowly, using the alleyway's dumpster, stuffed with wooden poles and decorating gear, to crouch behind and give himself temporary cover and time to observe; Jean was in no fit state to start a fight with a vampire over a misunderstanding.

Marco was pushed back against the wall with the man pressed against him. The boy's arms were limp by his sides and his head lulled to one side, exposing his neck. He was completely vulnerable. The man leaned in ever so slowly and Jean instinctively lurched forward to watch. The man raised one hand to grip Marco's chin and tilt it to the left, so he was looking in Jean's direction - not that he knew it. Marco was so inebriated his eyes were basically shut. However, Jean doubted the boy could see a thing, even if his eyes been open, with no light entering the alleyway.

The man brought his other hand up and let his fingers dance long the boy's throat. "Such a lovely neck you have..." He purred, reminding Jean of a wolf from an old fairy tale. Jean guessed Marco mistook the man's tone for lust as he made a humming sound in reply. This only encouraged the predator as the man chuckled darkly. His tongue darted out and trailed up the freckled skin and Jean suddenly felt almost perverted, watching two guys being this intimate as a complete outsider. Maybe this was it. Maybe this man was just some creepy older guy into younger boys. If so, Jean wasn't really prepared to deal with a situation like that.

And maybe Jean could have believed that...If only he'd left then. The man began a hungry opened mouth kiss on the boy's throat that quickly became more desperate. His nails extended unnaturally into sharp points that dug into Marco's jaw and made the younger gasp. Marco's weak hands came up to the man's chest and unsuccessfully pushed. Marco struggled weakly, doing nothing but encouraging the vampire as he seized the boy and held him flat against the wall, biting down. Hard.

Marco choked, and Jean's eyes bulged. _No.... This was not right...No._

Instinct kicked in as Jean propelled himself forward and clutched the man's shoulders. Dragging him away with force, Jean threw the man away and into the opposite wall of the alley. Jean placed himself firmly between the predator and its prey. Marco slid to the floor with no one there to support him. His whole body sagged, and Jean feared the worst. This was bad. Very bad.

Blood oozed from the wound on the boy’s neck, making goose bumps rise across Jean’s body. With that, Jean was painfully reminded of his need for…

 _No_. Jean shook his head, freeing himself from the thoughts clawing at his mind. He wasn’t at his best to fight right now, but there was no one to blame but himself. Marco needed him and the threat of Mikasa’s warning stuck at the front of his mind, urging him on.

He turned a sharp glare to the man before him, who swiped at the blood trailing down his chin with the back of his hand, eyes locked on Jean the whole time. The man smirked, fangs glinting in the peak of moonlight that abruptly swept over alleyway.

"What the hell was that?" Jean barked.

The response was a dark chuckle. "Must have gotten thirsty," the man examined Jean, eyeing him up most likely. "Well," the raspy voice came again. "You know how it is." The man tapped his fangs smugly and Jean's brow furrowed. Jean lifted his hand to his mouth and felt the two sharp points protruding past his upper lip. How long hand he been like this? Since he entered the alley or even before then? _No. It mustn't have been long ago_. His fangs were only just revealed. They could still grow more if his desire increased any further.

 _Marco…._ He’d seen Marco.

Jean dragged his hands away, his fists clenching by his sides. He was nothing like this man. They were polar opposites at best.

"You _know_ this isn't how we hunt," Jean's voice held a dangerous tone. "Why would you do this? You couldn't have just lured him from the club...” Jean’s mind put the pieces together. “You've been waiting all night for this, haven't you? You planned this, didn't you!"

"Yes!" Came a snarl. "Want to know something else too? Something _worse_?" He paused, and Jean narrowed his eyes, a silent threat. "I'm not the only one changing things. I won't be the only one you'll see whose hunting like this. We're going back...back to a time when _we_ were at the top of the food chain. Don't like it? Tough. You can't stop what's already in motion."

Jean was taken aback. Who was changing? They couldn't change. It wouldn't work. The man whirled around suddenly and sprang for the street. Unfortunately, Jean was quicker as he sped forward and snatched a wooden pole from the dumpster, snapping it into a point over his leg, and launched it into the man's back. There was a sickening crack as the man spluttered, then exploded into dust and shadows.

It was over.

That was when Jean noticed his shaking hands. He tossed the pole back into the dumpster and paced over to where Marco's body sat, his legs out flat and head dangling forward. Kneeling beside the slumped boy, Jean took a shaky breath.

 _You can do this, Jean_. He told himself. _Help someone for once_.

He lifted Marco's chin, seeing the boy’s face up close for the first time that night. He could see the perfect trail of freckles spattered across the boy’s cheeks like stars in the night sky; the way the boy’s bangs hung down, nearly obscuring his delicate eyelashes; and the way his face was so relaxed, so free of emotion.

Inspecting the two puncture holes piercing the other boy’s jugular, Jean gulped. A thin trail of dark liquid was steadily seeping from the wound. Jean licked his lips subconsciously. He couldn't drag his eyes away, like he was under a trance. His right hand was out of his control as it dragged two fingers across the skin, smearing the blood from its path. His nails were like a wild animal’s: sharp and pointed. They left two thin white scratches on the skin as they moved. Jean’s mouth filled with saliva as he lifted his fingers in front of his face and studied them as they inched closer.

Slowly. Ever so slowly.

Jean was in a complete daze as his bottom jaw dropped to receive the addictive substance adorning his fingertips. A predatory instinct took over the moment the sweet liquid met his tongue. Jean's eyes fell shut as he sucked, desperately attempting to pry more blood from his digits. The small flicker of guilt at the back of his mind telling him to be sensible, to help the boy he was now so casually ignoring was subdued by the wave of ecstasy that had hit him. Jean released what must have sounded like a moan. His eyes shot open, the irises were pitch black and his fangs elongated, now piercing his bottom lip so he had no choice but for his mouth to remain open.

When the harsh reality hit that Jean’s fingers were spotless his gaze drifted to the freckled boy, still slumped in the dirt. Voices in Jean's mind battled as he edged closer to Marco. The smaller voice telling him to go check for the gang of drunk teenagers, his friends, or ring an ambulance and say he was attacked. But the louder voice...

He was soon sat on Marco's thighs, a hand in the boy's hair, tugging it back to expose the blood trail that was now slowing. Jean dipped forward and ran his tongue from Marco's neckline of his shirt, where the trail continued, to the two small puncture holes. There was a strange sweet taste to the liquid. Metallic, as expected. But this was different. _Drugs?_ Had Marco's drink been spiked? Or had he simply had too much alcohol. Jean didn't know. But right now the temptation was luring him and his tongue felt glued to the boy's skin. Jean dragged his tongue back into his mouth. He then sucked on the flesh, dragging out more of the sweet liquid to fuel his fix.

His hand abandoned Marco's hair and his nails scraped down the brick wall instead. Again the voice in his head told him: _it's okay, Jean_. _You're not biting him...you're simply cleaning up after someone else's mess._ The worst of it was that Jean could only agree. His desire was so powerful he was willing to be gullible.

That's when he felt it.

Marco's head nudged his, then lulled onto his shoulder. Jean forced himself off from the boy's neck and turned to see Marco's eyes fluttering, unsuccessfully attempting to open. They stopped, and Marco leaned into Jean's shoulder.

Jean's eyes drank in the sight of Marco, the boy resting his head against Jean as if they were friends. Almost as if he were sleeping. 

Jean's hand shot over his mouth and he flew back, away from Marco's body. Hitting the dirt, he continued to crawl backwards, dragging his reluctant body until his back hit the opposite wall. From there, Jean gawped down at his hands. His nails had never been this long or sharp. He had never gotten this bad before now. Jean's fangs were becoming painful as he attempted to slide them back into his gums.

No luck. He could taste blood again. This time it was different. It was repulsive and he fought the urge to gag as he spat the liquid to the ground. It was a dark colour and hardly even looked like blood; more like oil. Jean lifted a finger and swiped it across his bottom lip. Sure enough, the same liquid stained his hands. Dabbing against the skin, he found a small cut where his fangs had pierced his lip. He was out of control.

 _Come on, Jean_. He cursed inwardly. _Get it together_.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall and calming himself. He purposely restrained his gaze from Marco's body. 

 _Think Jean_ , he scolded. _Think of something. Think...think of a turn off!_

Jean sat, brows drawn together like magnets, eyes showering the night sky as if for an answer. His eyes drifted down slowly until- _No!_ He winced, squeezing his eyes shut painfully tight. _Think! Think of a turn off! You can't be thinking about him now or any of them-_

Jean's eyes snapped open and his mouth curved into a smirk.

_Eren._

_Yes! Come on, Jean. Think of that scent. Concentrate on that scent_. His nose wrinkled at the thought. _Good_. _Come on._

Jean knew the longer he waited, the longer Marco was left without help, but if he tried to help before he had calmed himself down he might make it worse; what if he killed him? But he couldn't think about that right now. Jean lifted his thumb and prodded his teeth. Nothing. Flat as any human's would be. Jean couldn't help but feel smug. _Thanks, Eren._

Now, the harder part. Not to lose control all over again. Dropping his gaze to Marco, Jean removed his jacket and cautiously moved to Marco's right. Then, he tilted Marco's head, and before feeling the déjà vu and familiar tug of temptation, he scrunched the jacket against the seeping wound. His heart beat had definitely increased again, but this time he compelled himself to focus. Shaking his head clear of distracting thoughts, he hatched a plan to save Marco as quick as possible.

 _I could take him to the hospital_ , Jean thought. _Then I could simply drop him off and it's not like I need to feed anymore_. Guilt nagged him from the corners of his mind. _What if they notice the marks on his neck?_ Humans didn't generally know about vampires. Well, not his sort. They knew plenty about sparkly old men with their own personal super powers. _Pfft, humans were such an odd species._

Of course, Jean had been human once, but it had been so long ago that the species would have seemed foreign had he not been living among them. Hiding among them.

 _No time like the present_ , Jean thought as he reluctantly leaned forward. Hooking one arm under Marco's knees and the other beneath the freckled boy's back, Jean lifted Marco. The jacket slid from its position, no longer covering the wound and instead simply hanging from Marco's shoulder. Jean ignored this and realised he couldn't leave his jacket on Marco's body when he left him at the hospital anyway; they could trace it back to him and he couldn't have that.

With a drawn out sigh, Jean paced to exit the alleyway. He hesitated when he reached the street. He couldn't be spotted or have witnesses linking him to this. How do you explain that you found a random guy with puncture holes in his neck and slightly drained of blood and shrug it off? Tell them you were just being a Good Samaritan? People would be suspicious. Maybe even think Jean had attacked the vulnerable boy.

The hospital wasn't far, but he had no way of knowing who would see him. This was dangerous. Wherever they had gone, Eren and the rest of the group were no longer in the street. Jean stepped out into the street light and power walked across the road. Once there he continued up to the end of the street. He peeked around the corner and seeing no one still, he made his way up the next block. Jean walked quickly but glanced around often, checking behind him constantly and squinting at building windows. It must have been very late night or early morning now. No one seemed to be around, which was fantastic considering the situation.

The hospital was right around the corner now. _Ok, Jean. You're nearly there. You've got this._

A tall woman came around the corner and was waltzing across the road when she noticed Jean. She examined him with beady eyes and his footing slipped up for a moment, nearly taking himself and Marco crashing to the ground. She nodded to him then turned up her nose and carried on as if she had seen nothing.

Jean was confused. He surveyed Marco. In the night, human eyes could probably miss the marks on his neck. If so, then Marco might just seem like a teenager who had gotten too drunk or couldn't handle his alcohol very well. Maybe Jean even appeared to be helping. That made him feel guilt in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't helped; he was the one who put Marco in this mess. Or at least made it worse.

Reaching the corner, Jean peered around the side of the building, spotting the hospital. It didn't look very busy, but there was a nurse outside. He held a cigarette and took a long drag before blowing smoke out into the cold air. _Damn. How do I get him inside without being seen?_

As if by magic a doctor jogged out of the building's doors and called out. The nurse turned and although Jean couldn't hear, he interpreted the actions and movements as such: the nurse was needed inside, but wasn't happy about it from how he waved his cigarette in the doctor's direction; the doctor was stern and got their point across, making the nurse sulkily throw his cigarette to the ground and crush it with his foot.

Jean saw his opportunity and dashed across the road. Outside the building he placed Marco outside, propping the boy up against the building's wall. Jean brushed the boy's bangs out of this face and hesitated. Finally, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

 _Now what._ It was cold out and if no one knew he was out here how long would it be before they could help him. Jean studied the surroundings. He stopped abruptly. He had never been big on crime, but it _was_ a way to attract attention. Grabbing a nearby rock, about the size of a golf ball, Jean hurled it at the nearby parked ambulance. The rock smacked against the windscreen and within a second the alarm blared loudly. Jean sprinted from the scene and hid behind the cover of another building, peering out at the scene.

Watching the hospital doors slides open, Jean saw a short woman with hair pulled back into a neat ponytail exit. She raised herself onto her tiptoes, glowering until she saw the ambulance lights. She sighed, turning around to make her way inside. She stopped short.

Marco.

She saw him and making her way over she knelt beside him. Jean saw her look towards the hospital doors. Then, he heard her yell. "I need a doctor out here!" She yelled.

Jean didn't stay to hear the rest. Sinking into the shadows, he left without being seen, knowing Marco was in better hands now.

It was only when Jean was walking past the club again, hands in his jacket pockets and head down, that he realised; Marco's friends. _What would Marco's friends think?_ Eren and Mikasa especially. There couldn't be conflict between the werewolves and vampires; that much was certain.

The relationship was already unstable; there wasn't much trust. The only thing keeping them from each other's throats was their truce. Vampires had to get blood from animals or hospitals or any other way that kept humans out of the picture, and werewolves weren't allowed out on full moons - when their self-control was off. Werewolves didn't usually attack humans when they lost control; there was always a more specific target than that. That's where vampires came into it. There was this scent that drew the creatures to each other and never for any good reason. They were natural enemies, that both hid within the lives of the ordinary.

Jean made a snap decision.

He would visit Marco the tomorrow night, check the boy was OK and no harm was done. Then, he could think about the next steps - the steps where he casually dropped into the conversation with the elders that a vampire had broken the truce. Did he really have to mention his part in it - the unhelpful part anyway. It wasn't like he needed to be in more trouble.

Jean had technically broken a vampire law anyway. He had killed one of his own kind. Even if he was a traitor, Jean had killed a fellow vampire without hesitation.

Jean swallowed hard, sinking back further into the darkness and away from prying eyes. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! First chapter done.
> 
> I promise a certain blonde boy has not been forgotten ;)


End file.
